


and i think we're made for this

by Julx3tte



Series: sylvgrid week 2020 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Knights, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Pool Noodles, Pretending to be a man, Sylvgrid Week (Fire Emblem), day 6 - first time / au, day 7 - free
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julx3tte/pseuds/Julx3tte
Summary: 6 AUs of the first time Sylvain and Ingrid meet
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: sylvgrid week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776286
Comments: 19
Kudos: 18
Collections: Sylvgrid week 2020





	1. college AU

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunnilee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnilee/gifts), [paperpenpal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperpenpal/gifts), [nicole_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicole_writes/gifts).



Sylvain always looked forward to the first day of classes. He hated being home between semesters, and almost all of the time found some kind of excuse to stay on campus, even if it meant working some random job he didn’t really enjoy for less pay than sitting around at home or in his father’s office. 

This past year was better than most - he’d gotten to know Felix, and Dedue, and their group had started coming together to study or get coffee. Till then, he’d just wandered around aimlessly on campus, getting into whatever trouble came his way.

Usually, that trouble meant girls. 

It was the same reason Sylvian loved when classes started again. 

He didn’t really… date. Calling it dating around was a bit too much credit. 

Sylvain was suave, smooth. He knew how to make people swoon over him, and, well, if that led to certain other activities, then so be it.

Not that he went seeking it out either. Some counselor at some point had told him not to live out his trauma through other people and, if nothing else, that stuck. It wasn’t good to pin all of his emotions down by relying on other people. It was just that he didn’t mind when they helped soothe some of the worst, even when he’d never tell them about it. 

Most of the time it didn’t get  _ that _ bad. Most of the time, he was satisfied to get to know his classmates and tease and flirt and help everyone get along. 

Though, by far, the most beautiful person in this class was the blonde with long hair in the front row. He’d only caught a glimpse of her when she came and sat down, and it was enough to know that he should find some excuse to talk to her.

He mused over it as the professor gave his introductions - Sylvain always sat near the edges of the room, where he could stretch his legs out into the aisles. The damn seats were always too small and uncomfortable, especially when the topic wasn’t something he was particularly interested in. 

He was only taking physics because it seemed the easiest out of the required science classes on his list. It was the most math based, and between his time as a part-time administrator for his father, and the finance classes he was taking, it had to be the most straightforward.

Eventually the moment came. The professor asked for volunteers for a demonstration and, between the growing discomfort and his seat and seeing the blonde girl - Ingrid, as she introduced herself to the class -volunteer, Sylvain’s hand shot up immediately. 

The professor held a pool noodle over a small tank of water and asked them to help him demonstrate buoyancy.

The professor gave them instructions to hold one pool noodle under the water first. While he lectured about the forces keeping the noodle underwater and causing it to float back to the surface when they stopped applying force on it, Sylvain took the moment to glance to his side.

“I’m Sylvain,” he whispered.

“I know. You told the class,” she said curtly.

Now, the professor asked them to push down two folded pool noodles. The goal was to see how much buoyant force could resist both of their arms pushing down on it.

He turned to speak again, and Ingrid cut him off before he could say anything.

“Not interested,” she said, glaring, “in whatever line you’re about to give me.”

He nodded and turned his attention back to the professor.

Sylvain had been shot down before. Usually by people that knew him or his reputation or had boyfriends - but even across those experiences this was cold. He was just making friendly conversation during a class demonstration - the question he was about to ask was more than fair. What was her major? Why was she taking physics? 

The professor added more pool noodles to the tank, and as the number grew, Sylvain had to put more strength in to match the force. His hands were getting tired. He had one side of the tank, and Ingrid had the toher, and together they had to lean forward to get enough force on top of the pool noodles.

It wasn’t a deep tank, but they were both straining. 

Sylvain stole a look at Ingrid and smiled, and she responded with a look of scorn. He quickly looked back down, and as he did, Ingrid let her hand slip. 

At least, that’s what it looked like. He was sure that she did it on purpose.

Her side of the pool noodle cluster shot up and hit him in the face, and his side slipped under the water and splashed him with the cold water. 

As the class erupted into laughter, she said, “I meant it. Don’t try to flirt with me, Gautier. Felix already warned me about all your tricks.”

Sylvain, pride wounded, face face burning red, and clothes wet, just nodded and sighed. 

It would be one of  _ those _ semesters. 


	2. noble / knight au

Horseback wasn’t Ingrid’s favorite way of getting around - no she much preferred the back of a pegasus in the skies - but it would do. 

At least the stables were nice and well maintained - the wood was new and sanded down well, and the hay was neatly piled around the sides. It even smelled nice - like pine and dew and not like manure, though she doubted that would last.

Ingrid tightened the grip on her steed’s reigns and trotted it forward onto the track. 

Today was her chance to prove that she was a true knight. 

For years, Ingrid had hidden under the guise of a man, letting her helmet and armor cover her body well enough that no one could tell. She cut her hair short and wore a bandana, just in case, but for the most part, it didn’t matter.

But today was the Faerghus jousting competition, and today she would win.

She was sure of it. Even if she couldn’t bring Luin -- it would be too obvious of a tell of who she really was -- and even if she had to give everything for it, she would win and take her helmet off and reveal herself to King Dimitri and the other nobles in attendance that a woman could be a knight.

The battles she’d fought in so far, earning just enough money to pay for an inn and repairs to her armor, all led to this. She’d polished the pauldrons herself and added her own insignia to them in clean, green paint. 

The first order of business was practice. Her steed was fast and sturdy, but she still needed to get used to accelerating quickly with it. 

Comfort was everything. In the skies she could twist and change altitudes and spin, but in a joust, the whole battle was one moment, one direction. 

Rivalry between the knights in the competition was intense, so no one was allowed practice weapons - not even wooden ones. To placate them, the tournament officials gave them what looked like giant noodles. They weighed almost nothing, but were about the same length as a real spear and would have to do. 

She slashed through the air with the flimsy things, and heard a stifled laugh behind her.

“Show yourself,” she called, lowering her voice as much as she could. She’d gotten used to faking a man’s voice, though there were times she still wasn’t sure of it. In most places it didn’t matter much, but here, in the throat of Faerghus, she was extra careful. 

A young man with red hair stepped from behind a stable, covering his mouth with one hand. He was obviously a noble -- his clothes were too nice not to be, but his stance and build told Ingrid that he knew how to fight, too. 

“I hope you don’t plan to win using that,” he said, gesturing to the noodly spear in her hands. 

Ingrid didn’t like to be embarrassed. She was too proud, and besides, it wasn’t as if she was the only one practicing with the damned things. Instead, she trotted the horse closer to him. “Would you like to put me to the test?” she challenged.

The young man looked her up and down, focusing on the insignia on her horse and her shoulders. She was in full armor, but she felt his eyes piercing through the slits of her helmet. Eventually, he sighed. 

“I would, but my father isn’t allowing me to join this year,” he replied. “For parity’s sake.”

Suddenly, Ingrid recognized who the man was. Sylvain Gautier. The winner of the previous year’s joust, and the son of Margrave Gautier, whose territory was hosting the tournament. 

“Or perhaps so that your pretty face doesn’t get too hurt this year,” she said. 

She’d seen him joust before - it was impressive. He was a natural at the sport, someone even Ingrid wouldn’t want to face in a real battle.

“Thank you for calling me pretty. I’m sure you are too, miss Galatea,” he said with a wink.

That disarmed her. “How do you kno-”

If anyone found out too early, she wouldn’t be allowed to joust. Worse, word might get back to her father too early. She already regretted leaving him the way she did - thrusting Luin in the hands of her brothers and riding off with scarce a note - it wouldn’t be right to return until she’d accomplished what she set out to do.

After that, she could make amends. 

He cut her off. “Relax. I won’t tell anyone - I know you’re better than the rest of these chumps.”

“I… thanks.” Ingrid took a deep breath to steady herself. 

“Just make sure to win this year. And pick me as your prize, I promise you won’t regret it.” He winked again and walked away.

He was charming, she would give him that. Suspicious, a known womanizer, and maybe too confident - but at least charming.

Ingrid set off to grab another noodle-spear and practice a few more times before the competition started in earnest.


	3. au - pool party

Sylvian walked by the poolside, and was just thinking about how nice it would be to sit in the sun and flirt with some nice girls in bikinis -- until a pool noodle hit him square in the face.

It knocked any sense of relaxation out from under him.

Look - most of the time, hanging out with Dimitri was kind of a drag. As a kid, he had too much of a sense of order and justice, which was a nice way of calling him bossy. Though, it came in handy sometimes. Other than Glenn, no one was quite as good at wrangling all of the young nobles together to get anything done. 

As an adult, Dimitri was a bit too… emo. Something happened in college, apparently, and Dimitri now wore exclusively black and grew his hair out to a length that would have made Ferdinand Von Aegir jealous, if Ferdinand hadn’t finally stopped caring about what people thought and grown his hair out to extreme lengths. 

Still, Dimitri threw good parties. He hadn’t seen everyone in years, and it was nice to be around them again. Felix and Annette, who’d finally gotten together when Sylvain told him to get his head out of his ass, were arguing about how to grill corn. Ashe was hiding from the sun under a massive umbrella, reading a book. 

Mercedes was -- well. That wouldn’t be right. She was a priest now, and despite his past crushes on her, he had repented enough from his teenage perversion to even risk it.

Dedue and Dimitri were welcoming some of the guests from the other houses, including some faces he’d never seen before.

One of those faces - a surprisingly cute blonde with green eyes and some light freckles - was holding the pool noodle that had just hit him. She looked completely unapologetic, floating with two other pool noodles under her shoulders. 

If he wasn’t so pissed, it would have been charming. 

Sylvain saw red. How dare she ruin his well-sunscreened plans with some long ass foam and whole a lot of force. 

He had half a mind to yank the noodles out from under her and another to say something mean, and he was about to - he’d just turned to face her when he was aware of someone running behind him.

Sylvain felt a shove on the small of his back and fell right into the pool. As he fell, he heard the sound of a laugh -- Felix’s -- and swore to get revenge.

Then the chilly pool water enveloped him.

The woman had a half second to react and protect her face before Sylvain slammed full force into her, pushing them both under the water.

Now, Sylvain wasn’t the best swimmer. He could do some things - survival floating was one of the skills he made sure to learn, and he could do laps around a long pool to exercise, but it was new territory to find himself landing on another human at the deep end of the pool.

So he instinctively wrapped his arms around her and caught another bit of pool noodle to his face as one slipped out from under her, unable to hold both of their weight. 

It stopped the panic and the blindness and his head finally peeked out from under the water. He blinked at the blonde stranger, let go, tried to focus on floating, and frowned.

Sylvain shoved all of his pride down his chest.

“Hi, I’m Sylvain.” He forced a smile on his face. 

“Ingrid,” she replied. 

Well, she was definitely cute. He didn’t dare look down at her body under the water, but he was thankful she looked kind. 

“Hi Ingrid.”

“Hi Sylvain.” She had the galls to laugh at him.

“Look, we obviously have a score to settle here. But could we please focus on getting Felix into the pool and slapping him silly with these damn pool noodles first?” Sylvain was a trained diplomat. He practiced diplomacy here, expecting a peaceful, rational response.

Instead, Ingrid bopped him on the top of the head with the pool noodle before swimming away - suspiciously sharklike - after Felix’s footsteps.

Sylvain blinked and realized that she was there to make mischief, and he didn’t even need to see her out of the pool to want a little more. 

She swam away, and so did his plans to flirt with anyone else at the damn party. 


End file.
